


A little friend

by mainake



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a bit sad, Bad English but I tried, Crowley is Worse at Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional support snakes are involved, Gabriel is a bully, I'm bad at details so sorry if it isn't canon compliant, Light Angst, M/M, Not really crack but I'm bad at being serious, One shot but not really, Self-Indulgent, but everyone knew that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19756438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainake/pseuds/mainake
Summary: Aziraphale has been a bit moody lately, so Crowley has a brilliant idea. For a while, Aziraphale receives visits from a small, rather cute snake. He doesn't have the heart to tell Crowley he knows it's him.





	A little friend

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a looong time since I last wrote in English, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes! Please point them out so I can correct them. I hope you enjoy this little thing. Maybe I'll write a second chapter, not sure yet.

Aziraphale was a terrible liar and a worse actor. There were some exceptions to this general fact, such as that one time he had impersonated Crowley so well he had deceived Hell itself. The demon was still proud. And charmed, but that was old news. Aziraphale charmed him 6000 years ago.

But this time, he wasn’t bothering to pretend at all. Something was up.

“If I’m honest, it has been rather a busy week in the bookshop…” Right. That place where he stored all of his books, never to sell a single one of them. “Maybe next week, my dear? I promise I’ll let you tempt me to lunch then”.

The fake laugh at his own joke made Crowley actually shiver. It just felt wrong. Aziraphale was the type to laugh with his whole chest, especially if he had been making the same pun for centuries. A quirk that was way too adorable to be irritating. But this… This did irritate him. Did something bad happen? And why was he hiding it from him?

At the other side of the line, Aziraphale hung up. It had been hard for him, to say no to Crowley like that. But he had much to think about. Complicated, unarticulated feelings he had asphyxiated inside of his soul for so long. The worst part was the guilt. He had created excuse after excuse for himself in an extremely human-like fashion. But now that the world had almost ended… He couldn’t do it no more. He owed it to Crowley and himself.

He sighed, defeated. It shouldn’t be that hard to reconcile his thoughts, fears and emotions. And yet, there he stood. As much of a fool as he had always been. The not-really-a-bookseller knew that nothing good would come from speaking to himself as Gabriel used to do. However, it was hard to avoid. He didn’t so much as want to read.

Aziraphale had only felt that miserable when Crowley asked him for holy water.

Which was even more evidence of the obvious. The angel sighed again.

His self deprecation was interrupted by a sudden high pitched scream. It came from a man who was pointing at the floor, his face whiter than Aziraphale’s wings. He screamed as he left the bookshop.

“A snake! A snake’s right there!”

Only other two potential customers were at the establishment —more than usual, actually—, but they didn’t hesitate to join the first one. Well, that saved him a lot of work. It often required a bit of effort on his side to get them to go back home with empty hands. Aziraphale was pleased.

“Hello there, friend.” He could have recognized snake Crowley anywhere, no matter if he had last seen him thousands of years ago. Especially after his little mischief. The reptile looked at him and hissed. Ah, of course. Of course. “You know, you remind me of someone I like very much. That’s the reason why I’m letting you stay. But don’t cause any more trouble, right, dear?”

He didn’t have the heart to tell his friend that he knew it was him. In fact, the idea that he could _not_ know was hilarious to Aziraphale. Crowley was a man, well, a demon, of many talents. But the art of disguise wasn’t his calling. He clearly remembered how he had barely made any effort to become nanny Ashtoreth, except from growing out his hair and putting a skirt and some lipstick on. Now, he looked at him with those strange, vibrant eyes he knew so well.

The angel smiled. Oh, how blatant everything was. And what a coward he was.

He offered the snake an open hand. It accepted the invitation, approaching him and climbing his arm. Aziraphale found himself giggling when it hummed in contentment. What a long time since he had last seen him so relaxed. Such a warm thought lifted some of the weight on his chest.

“That’s a good boy.” He wasn’t going to lose the chance to call him _good_ without being slammed against a wall, although he didn’t really mind. “You should have a name, shouldn’t you? I’m thinking of Crawly. Ah, don’t look at me like that. It’s a classic. How do humans say…? And oldie but goldie, yes.”

Aziraphale laughed at the snake’s hiss of pure disdain.

A few days later, Crowley was feeling proud of himself. His little plan had been a success. The improvement on his angel’s mood was notable, although he still got tremendously anxious from time to time. He knew what to do when that happened. And it seemed to help him, to receive a visit of a scaled friend.

“Oh, wait, I immortalised an image of me with the snake. I’ll show it to you.”

“It’s said “take a pic”, angel, I can’t… Is that a phone!? You? You have a _mobile phone?”_ Crowley was shocked. Maybe Aziraphale’s existential crisis was worse than he thought. “I guess the world almost ending was the kind of event you needed to buy one.”

“What’s so surprising about me buying a portable device? I’m modern.”

“You put tartan on my Bentley, remember?”

The familiar bickering died once Aziraphale managed to find the picture on his gallery, which was full of book covers and desserts. Crowley felt the urge to tell him that it was his side who invented the trend of photographing food to upload to Instagram, but he held his tongue. The blond was too kind to be told about Instagram.

Now he knew why he hadn’t realized sooner that Aziraphale had purchased a phone. On the screen, a very asleep snake Crowley laid on his lap. His best friend had the brightest smile. That well-known warmth he always felt whenever Aziraphale seemed happy was spreading through his body. It embarrassed him a bit. Not because there was something inherently wrong with it, but because he was quite certain that it wasn’t mutual. He didn’t want some dumb emotions to tear them apart, not after everything they had been through. So, he did what he used to do. He focused on something else.

“A selfie? Who taught you that? Please, please promise me you won’t make a Facebook account. I’ll die if you do.”

“A Facebook account? I have never heard of such a book.” Aziraphale frowned. “Do you need to pay for a subscription service or something of the sort to read it? Because, well, if it’s a rare book…”

“It’s not a book. Forget it, I guess I’m safe.” What a rollercoaster. He only wanted to have dinner with his favourite angel, and now was having the most surreal of conversations.

It wasn’t new to Aziraphale to hear Crowley mention human trends he never explained properly. He didn’t mind, how was the demon able to keep up with all that was a mistery to him. Aziraphale introduced a spoon of strawberry cake into his mouth. Oh, what a delightful invention that was. Even Gabriel liked cake.

“So, what do you think about my little friend? It’s pretty adorable, isn’t it?”

Crowley almost spat his wine. Adorable. How Aziraphale of him, to find a demonic, evil, black snake adorable. That was the reason why he was always worried about him. He had the self-preservation instinct of a dog chasing a car. “There’s nothing cute about serpents, angel. Believe me, I know.”

His friend smiled. At that moment, Crowley knew. He was about to say something that would be soul-stirring and also hurt like a motherfucker.

He was right.

“I disagree, they are. At least, the ones I know are.”

Cheeky bastard. It hurt; it hurt tremendously to see him say that as if it meant nothing. Moreover, when he kept eating cake after. He had to stop thinking about it. Change the topic.

“Did you name it?” The other blushed. Yes, that worked, to make him the embarrassed one. That was better. “You should give it a name, if it’s staying with you.”

Aziraphale was noticeably flustered. His ears had turned red and he was stuttering, something he always did when nervous. Crowley couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for him. However, at the same time, he was eager to hear what he would come up with. After all, he was still the demon of the two.

He found salvation in a waiter who passed by, whom he asked for the bill. A smart move who allowed him to talk about something completely unrelated. Obviously, his angel had always been smart. Way smarter than all of those stuck up arseholes in Heaven.

A few moments later, they were walking out of the restaurant. It was late, so the street was almost silent. Only a few footsteps and distant conversations could be heard. Crowley’s car wasn’t far, that was probably why their pace was so slow. It had been a while since they hadn’t seen each other in their respective human forms. None of them wanted it to end. Maybe that was their most defining characteristic, the reason why they stopped Armageddon. They never wanted things to end.

Crowley found himself feeling that pinch on his chest again. He had plenty of time to feel it at his lonely flat. Home, he guessed, although he made sure to never think of it as such. His home was in front of him, absorbed in his mysterious, unreachable thoughts. They seemed to be sad ones. If only Aziraphale had the habit of commenting his concerns with stray snakes he casually adopted.

“There’s this thing that’s bothering me, you know.” A shaky voice came out of Aziraphale’s throat. Crowley turned his head towards him as an encouragement to continue. “About the snake. It’s missing more often than not, and I-“

He wasn’t going to say anything, at first. He was going to let it go, to assume he just wasn’t that important to Aziraphale and that was the reason why he couldn’t be told what was going on. It made no sense to him, not after all they had gone through, but he could handle it. It couldn’t be that hard.

But it was. So he interrupted him.

“That’s a snake behaving as snakes do. Common snake behaviour. I’m sure you have some book about it. C’mon, what’s your actual problem?” Crowley didn’t try to hide his frustration. “We’re best friends, right?”

Taken aback, the blond hesitated. “I... Yes, we are, we very clearly are. That’s got nothing to do with... the issue. It’s nothing, really. I don’t know why I called it an issue. There’s no issue. Everything’s fine.”

How tiring it was, to hear the same lie for six thousand years. Crowley groaned. He was still deciding if he should let it be or not when Aziraphale started talking again. “I’m thankful that you have a desire to help me, Crowley, I really am. But it’s not needed.”

That was more than he could take.

“I wasn’t trying to help you”. Aziraphale seemed confused. And yet if he knew too well he shouldn’t, he kept talking. “For fuck’s sake, angel, haven’t you noticed that you never, _ever_ , allow anyone to help you? How daring of me that would be! How terrible! A demon helping you? You’re too good for that, aren’t you?”

They didn’t argue often. Not as often as they should, at least, considering they were supposed to be eternity-long enemies. But when they did, it got ugly in the bat of an eye.

“Crowley, dear, I-“

“Don’t call me that! You don’t care about anyone who isn’t yourself!”

The demon knew he shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t believe it, so why had he said it? Crowley swallowed, anxious, and attempted to apologise. Only attempted, since the other silenced him with a gesture of his hand. Streetlights barely managed to illuminate the alley, but he still could see it. A single tear, running down Aziraphale’s cheek.

It was the first time he had seen his angel cry. Go- Satan, if he was unforgivable before, what was he now? It was the saddest image his eyes had ever registered. “Maybe I don’t. I guess you’re right. I’m too selfish”, Aziraphale replied, and Crowley’s heart broke. “I’m sorry, Crowley.”

He left, of course. Maybe he should have run after him, but he didn’t. Aziraphale was better off without him, as a random passerby had told him once. He had hurt him deeply, more proof that he didn’t deserve him. Never would.

So Crowley drove home as the bloody car insisted on playing every single Queen song that reminded him of Aziraphale —which was, like, all of them. Maybe it was on him for not changing the CD—. His plants didn’t dare move yet a leaf, probably because they had learned to notice his bad mood. With a growl, Crowley fell on his chair.

He took his dark glasses off and left them on the table. His fingers moved towards his eyes, rubbing them until they itched. His lips parted. One word was pronounced.

“Fuck.”

Once everything was said, he got up again and left with a door slam.

* * *

Aziraphale wished he had a bed to cry on.

He had mocked Crowley’s habit of sleeping on countless occasions, but that was all he wanted to do now. Cry until he was extenuated and his mind shut down. He felt a bit dumb crying on a sofa. It was anticlimactic. However, he would have to settle for it.

Aziraphale was considering getting drunk as the tormented soul he was, when he heard a noise on the front room. Thieves at his bookshop. At that very moment. Magnificent. Fantastic. Great. Everything was great.

He had to blink his swollen eyes twice to make sure it wasn’t a hallucination. How much of an idiot could that old serpent be? Why sneak under the door when he could have rung the bell like a normal being? And that wasn’t the end of the foolery, oh no.

“You’ve minisunglasses on, has anyone told you?” The sunglasses disappeared. “Hey, I didn’t mean it that way. It was only in case, you know, you wanted to be any subtle.” The sunglasses reappeared. “That’s what I thought. They look good on you, don’t they? Of course they do. It’s not like you don’t know how much I like you and your stupid glasses.”

The snake hesitated. Aziraphale sighed, defeated.

“I’m going to look extremely decadent for a while. Well, I guess I do already. Anyway, if you want to stay, you’re welcome. Do not make me regret this questionable choice, okay? There’s only so much I can take, d- Crawly.”

It hurt to correct himself and avoid using terms of endearment. But it would hurt even more to do so, when that was the thing that had led to Crowley saying he didn’t truly care about him. He was back at the sofa, his judgment clouded and his face lost in thought. Crowley was the demon, why was him the one with commitment issues? It wasn’t like it made any sense to be worried anymore. They both had been exiled from their respective sides. At least, for now, until Gabriel and the others felt like their mornings could really use some murder. But still... Still...

His sulking was interrupted by a humid sensation on his forehead. Aziraphale focused his eyes and found Crawly, its head at the same height as his and its lower body lying on his lap. It had... licked his forehead? An equivalent for a kiss, surely. Its expressionless face reminded him of how Crowley looked when he was expectant. It had given him certain practice, to spend thousands of years talking to someone with sunglasses on.

A tiny smile appeared on Aziraphale’s lips. “Thank you.” After a pause, he dared continue. “It’s... very comforting, to have you here.”

He thought about it for a moment. Wasn’t it kind of ridiculous, how they both seemed unable to talk to each other when it really mattered? Aziraphale couldn’t remember who initiated such a stupid behaviour in the first place. Himself, most likely. Therefore, it was appropriate for him to take the first step forward.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve made things... quite difficult for you. It must have been very hard, to keep waiting as I hopelessly tried to find a perfect solution. But there’s no way to obey and disobey at the same time, huh? Maybe I should’ve figured out that one a bit sooner. It makes me sound like a perfect idiot when said out loud.”

His voice broke. Aziraphale felt as if he had broken as well. That was it. That was the most he was able to say after 6000 years of silence. It didn’t feel like much. But it seemed to be enough, because Crowley licked his forehead again. The angel laughed.

“Well, considering you’re the one who’s still pretending to be a mysterious random snake, I guess I’ll have to give myself more credit. We’re equally idiotic, dear. It’s okay to start calling you “dear” again, right?” Crowley nodded. “Thank God. It’d have made me sad to hear otherwise, if I’m honest.”

Aziraphale found himself mindlessly caressing the demon’s head as he talked. Next time, he would have to tell Crowley to transform into a bigger reptile. This one was adorable, of course, but not longer than his forearm, and therefore impossible to hug. He would have to make up a better argument, though. Crowley wouldn’t accept to look easier to cuddle with.

After a few more hours, the angel drifted to sleep. As tired as he was, he could have remained that way until morning. However, there seemed to be an ineffable plan against him resting for the moment. Violent knocking at his door woke both him and Crowley up. They interchanged a knowing look before Aziraphale went to check who it was.

As he walked towards the door, he realised that it was obvious. None of their human friends lived any near the bookshop or would have probably recurred to them unless necessary. And the odour of corruption, an evil reek, got to him by the middle of the corridor. He opened the door very aware that it would be Beelzebub and Gabriel behind it.

And they were.

“If you’re here to try to murder me again, let me tell you that I’m starting to feel some animosity towards you in return.”

As always, Aziraphale’s feelings were much stronger than his words. As always, Gabriel used that as an excuse to undermine him. “Oh, no! You? Feeling animosity towards me? I wouldn’t want that. You could try to hit me with one of your precious books.” The only thing as dismissive as his tone was his smile.

Apparently, Gabriel hadn’t taken the hint that things weren’t going to be as they used to from now on. Aziraphale was ready to remind him of the latest events, when an unimpressed Beelzebub intervened. “Actually, this isn’t about you. Geez, the self-importance you angels have. We’re here for Crowley.”

Aziraphale had it really hard to avoid laughing at the fact that a Prince of Demons had just said “geez” in all seriousness. However, Crowley could be in trouble, so he did his best to conceal his amusement. “He’s not here. I’m alone. And no, I’m not telling you where he is.”

Gabriel snorted and pointed towards Aziraphale’s knee. “You do know there’s a snake right behind you, right?”

“So what? Can’t I have an emotional support snake?”

“Uhm, it has sunglasses on. I only know one bastard snake with sunglasses”.

“Well, maybe you should see it as a learning opportunity on bastard snakes. Good night, gentlemen. Not that any of you is deserving of the title, but you get it.” Aziraphale wasn’t in the mood for any nonsense. He had more than enough with his own.

He tried to close the door, but Beelzebub’s old shoe intercepted it. His attempt at a friendly smile was terrifying. “We’re not here to hurt him unless you force us to. If you behave, everyone will be alright.” Aziraphale disliked his attitude yet more than he disliked Gabriel’s smug face, if such a thing was possible. Beelzebub kept talking. “Also, his car’s right there. He should move it if he doesn’t want a ticket, by the way.”

The tree of them could have sworn they heard a “sssshit” mumbled by the snake. None said anything about, although Aziraphale considered it fairly cute.

“Fine, let’s pretend I don’t mind your blatantly condescending antics. What do you want from Crowley? It better be important.” He didn’t move an inch. They didn’t mention any desire to come in. Good.

“Well... Do you recall that flaming sword you lost? An incredibly incompetent move, by the way, even for you. The thing is we need it. For a future, successful, not-frustrated-by-two-traitors Armageddon.” Gabriel mentioning Armageddon again made Aziraphale feel nauseous. “So, apparently he took it from War after she was killed by a bunch of kids. Or at least, he knows where it is. We don’t really care about whos and whys. But we need the sword. For the Ineffable Plan! Alright?”

Aziraphale had no idea where the sword was or what was Crowley’s involvement with its new disappearance. He didn’t care either. He only wanted Gabriel’s unpolluted suit and Beelzebub’s filthy demeanour as far away from his bookstore as possible.

“No”, he replied.

“What... What did you just say? Don’t be difficult, Aziraphale.” The archangel’s left eye was twitching as if he was a CEO stuck in traffic.

“I said no. The sword’s mine. You thought I had it until I reported otherwise. So, it is clearly unnecessary for Armageddon. If you’re worried about me having a weapon, you shouldn’t mind that much.” The smile on his lips looked like danger. Gabriel, unknowing, thought that it looked like the one he had while surrounded by Hell’s flames. “I needed none to stop you the first time. And I will again, as many times as required, until you realise your blood-thirsty corruption and leave us be. You are a disgrace to everything Heaven means. Don’t be mistaken. I’m tolerating you for now, but I could change my mind extremely fast.”

Beelzebub, who had made no attempt at hiding his boredom by the beginning of the conversation, was now visibly amused. Aziraphale threatening Gabriel wasn’t the outcome he expected and he was enjoying it. On the other hand, Gabriel was livid. His face looked almost as white as his clothes.

“You little...” He took a step forward, getting closer to the rebellious angel. “I’ll set your damned bookstore on fire with you inside.”

“Good. You’ll be the only one who burns, remember?”

Beelzebub snorted. His associate gave him a murderous glare, but he shrugged. What did he expect? He was a demonic authority. He had to show appropriate behaviour to his title. “I’m sorry, but I’m fine with having a missing sword. Also, I wouldn’t like to bother your friend here. At this rate, it’s likely he ends up down there with us. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy I’d piss off.”

Some weeks earlier, the implications of that sentence would have distressed Aziraphale to no end. But it wasn’t some weeks earlier.

“Indeed, I’ll worry about falling when it happens to Gabriel and the others. It’s not as if I’m more deserving than them, am I?” Aziraphale’s round cheeks sure contrasted with his cold-blooded tone. He was determined. “As Crowley would say, _fuck off_ and stop pushing your luck”.

The archangel had the most shocked of expressions as the door was closed. He was considering whether to break in by force or not when Beelzebub patted his shoulder. He gave the demon a confused look, but he was already leaving. So he did as well.

Aziraphale sighed, relieved. His anger was still visible, his fists were clenched and his blood was boiling. How could they dare to...?

He turned around to find a human Crowley looking at him with a soft smile. And his anger didn’t leave, but was buried by positive feelings. “It’d ruin the moment if I said I love it when you swear, wouldn’t it? But I do. People should threaten us more often”, said the demon. He was supposed to be teasing him, but there was too much pride on his voice for that.

“Don’t be silly”, the angel scoffed. “The next fool who dares yet to breathe in your direction is getting discorporated. You... You’re the only thing I have in this universe, Crowley. And I do care about you. I care about you so much.”

Aziraphale hugged him. He had some experience with hugs, since his bookstore was apparently a good place to cry and tell your life story to a complete stranger. But Crowley? He went stiff and seemed confused. He had never hugged anyone, let alone been hugged. It felt weird, but also warm and reassuring. Aziraphale’s smell wrapped around him like a familiar blanket. Words were unneeded. Crowley discovered he utterly liked hugs. He found a stronger liking for them when Aziraphale let his head rest on his shoulder.

“Crowley?”

“Yes?”

“I still think snakes are cute.”

“What about snakes with sunglasses on?”

“Those are the best, my dear”.


End file.
